


Consideration 11

by Grey (grey853)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Series: Consideration, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/Grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the final chapter of the Consideration series, Blair must decide whether to accept medical treatment or face continued seizures.<br/>This story is a sequel to Consideration 10.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consideration 11

## Consideration 11

Grey

Author's Website: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net/>

* * *

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine because there's really no justice in the world. 

Notes: It's been over a year since I wrote part ten of this series, and it just never seemed finished. Now it is. To refresh your memory, Blair suffers from post-traumatic seizure disorder. He's had one complication after another with treatment and so stopped taking medications all together. The other parts of the series can be found at my website listed above. 

The eleventh and final Consideration story. 

Summary: In the final chapter of the Consideration series, Blair must face the choice of continued seizures or accepting medical treatment. 

* * *

Consideration 11  
by Grey 

Jim stirred the stew and glanced over at the clock one more time and frowned. Blair should've been home two hours ago, damn it. 

Refilling his cup with coffee, he leaned against the counter and took a deep breath. He swore to himself not to panic, said it out loud even. Blair made him promise to stay calm and let him live his life the way he used to before the accident, and he so wanted to do that. He wondered for a moment if his guide had any notion of how hard it was for him not to handcuff him to the bed and never let him leave his sight. Knowing Blair, he figured he knew exactly how difficult it was, but the stubborn bastard still demanded it, still challenged him to give up that control because he also knew exactly how much Jim loved him. 

Despite the surrender to Blair's demands for more freedom, he hated when his partner didn't call if he ran late from classes or the library. Getting lost in thought, staying too long at school when he got into the rhythm of working again, didn't happen that often, so he couldn't complain. Well, not really. 

But lately Blair came in just looking pale and strained, his headaches getting worse. He tried to play them off as eyestrain, that the new glasses just needed adjusting, but Jim worried it might be more than that. Every time Jim broached the subject of going back to the doctor, his lover got pissed and went to bed in his old room. Jim didn't want to admit that seeing that frustration and fear in his friend's eyes only magnified his own, but it did. 

He hated accepting that Blair made his own decisions, but he knew he had to or risk losing him to more than the seizures. Swallowing back his own dread, he stared at the telephone and hoped it would ring soon. 

When it finally did, he jumped in surprise and snatched it up. "Blair?" 

"No, this is Amy Johnson. I was calling to see if Mr. Sandburg made it home okay." The simple words chilled him. "I take it, he didn't." 

"Ms. Johnson, this is Detective Ellison, Mr. Sandburg's partner. Why would you call to ask that? Is he okay?" 

"Well, that's why I'm calling. After class today, he didn't seem right." 

"Didn't seem right? Didn't seem right how?" 

"He had a really bad headache. During class he got confused a few times, so he let us leave early. But then when everyone left, he held his head and just sort of sat there really quiet for awhile. He didn't answer the first few times when I asked if he was all right." 

Jim sat down on the back of the couch, his hand rubbing his forehead before he pinched the bridge of his nose. He worked hard to keep his voice neutral, to keep the anxiety from tensing the words. "Did you leave him alone like that?" 

A long pause came before the response, the girl's voice reluctant. "No, I didn't. I was afraid to. I know Mr. Sandburg's never mentioned it, but I know he's had some health problems. My brother has epilepsy, so sometimes when I see your partner having these episodes, they remind me of Davy's." 

"I'm sorry about your brother, Ms. Johnson. It's not easy." 

"No, it's not. Look, when he finally realized I was there, he was shaky and a little disoriented. I offered to drive him home, but he said he just wanted to rest in his office. I walked him over, but he just didn't look very with it, you know? Davy gets really tired and spacy after a seizure, so he probably just took a nap or something. It's just I was really worried and wanted to check on him." 

"I'm glad you called. Look, if you'll give me your number, when I find him, I'll give you a ring to let you know, okay?" 

"Sure. I'd appreciate it." 

She listed the numbers quickly and hung up. Jim hit the speed dial for his partner's cell phone. It rang for the tenth time as he turned off dinner and grabbed his jacket. Heading out the door, he finally heard a sluggish, "Yeah?" 

"Blair?" 

"Jim? Man, what time is it?" 

"Don't worry about the time. Are you okay?" 

"No, I don't think so." 

Shit. The admission rather than the standard "I'm fine," response scared him. "Are you in your office at school, Chief?" 

"Yeah. Jim, man, I'm not feeling too good. Could you come and get me?" 

"I'm on my way. Don't go anywhere, okay?" 

Blair's phone clanked against the wood floor and slow breathing filled the line, sentinel senses stretching out to check the steady heartbeat. He hurried to his truck and didn't feel the least bit guilty about using the flashing lights and sirens. 

* * *

Using his key, he entered Blair's office to find his partner sleeping face down on the couch, his glasses and the phone on the floor beside him. He turned on the light and stepped over to turn him over and check the vitals. The slight moan and clearing throat came right before speaking. "Jim? What's going on?" 

Kneeling beside the sofa, his gut clenching, Jim recognized the familiar confusion. "You had a seizure, Chief." 

"Shit. When?" 

"What's the last thing you remember?" 

"I don't know." Closing his eyes, his forehead creased, his whole face tensed. "Was I in class? Jesus, Jim, please don't tell me I did that in front of everybody. Shit." 

"Don't worry about it. Seriously, what's the very last thing you recall?" 

Using both hands to rub his face, Blair groaned. "I told you, man, I don't know. God, my head's killing me. It's never hurt this bad before." 

Swallowing back his own terror, Jim took his hand and gently squeezed. "Blair, I'm going to call Dr. Marshall and we're going to the ER, okay?" 

"I don't want to." The words came out unsteady, the fear behind them real and unnerving. 

"I know that, Chief. Believe me, I don't want to go either, but you know we have to. You've been putting it off, but the headaches aren't getting better, and now you're seizing again. We have to do something." 

Frightened eyes met his as Blair struggled to remain calm. "I know. I've known for awhile now, I guess. I was doing so much better, and then it started again. I'm sorry." 

"Nothing to be sorry for, babe." He kissed Blair's hand and caressed his cheek, the evening whiskers bristly and somehow a soothing comfort. "We've been through this before. You're ill, that's all, so stop apologizing. I love you." 

"Me, too, Jim." 

He paused as he stilled, his whole body suddenly stiff before relaxing, his mouth going slack and staying open. His dark blue eyes stared off and then rolled upward before eyelids fluttered and closed. 

"Shit, Chief. Don't do this." His eyes stung as he continued to hold his lover's limp hand, his own heart racing. He picked up his cell phone and made the calls he most hated making. 

* * *

Sitting by the bedside, Jim bowed his head and prayed to himself, begged for his partner's good health, and pleaded for more patience. The slightest rustle of sheets alerted him to Blair's waking. The sleep-husky voice carried his name like a song. "Hey, Jim." 

"Chief, how you feeling?" 

"Headache's better." Taking several deep breaths, Blair looked around and sighed. "Guess they kept me, huh?" 

"Yeah. You've been drifting in and out all night." 

He lifted his left arm and stared at the IV with scorn, his face twisting with displeasure. "So, what are they giving me this time?" 

"Some meds for the seizures. There's a list around here somewhere." 

"Don't bother. It doesn't make much difference." 

"Don't be like that, Chief. They had to do something. You had another seizure during the tests." 

"Tests?" 

Jim's gut tightened the way it always did when his partner lost time, knowing first hand the pain of fractured memories. "You don't remember any of the tests?" 

His face darkened as he met Jim's eyes. "What tests?" 

"A couple of scans along with blood and urine." 

Pulling his legs up under the sheet, Blair searched for the button that raised the head of his bed. After the motor revved, he sat up and shook his head while he massaged his right temple. "I must have been pretty out of it. I don't remember any of that." 

Jim took in the paleness, the tight lines of worry near the eyes. The dark circles bruised his skin all the way to his cheeks as he lay sad and drowsy. 

He rested his chin on the raised rail while he talked, his throat tight around the questions. "Blair, you've been having really bad headaches, I know that. But, what about the seizures? Was yesterday the first or were you trying to hide them?" 

Eyes misted, the watery film blinked into single tears running down the side of Blair's face. He quickly wiped away the offending evidence with his free hand before he answered softly. "I didn't mean to hide anything, Jim. I just kept hoping I was wrong. I don't always remember. It's like I'm doing something and then it's a long time later or I'm somewhere else and I'm so tired. It's just confusing." 

Jim bit his lower lip, his irritation quickly dissipated to disappointment. "But you should've told me, Chief. You knew something wasn't right." 

"I know, man. I'm sorry." 

"It's just that you'd chew my ass out good if I ever pulled this shit with you and you're a hell of a lot more patient than I am." 

Swallowing hard several times, Blair refused to meet his eyes. "So, are you mad?" 

"Of course, I'm mad, but I'm more upset than angry. I just want you to be all right." 

"I'm never going to be all right, Jim. I'm pretty well screwed here. Or haven't you figured that out yet?" 

He jerked back, the slap of the words as hard as a solid gut punch. Standing slowly, he walked to the window, his arms wrapping his chest to contain the silent screaming. His body clenched at the wash of pain those statements carried, the suffering made worse by the fact that his lover's previously agile tongue slurred them. 

"You don't know that, Blair." 

"I'm brain damaged, post traumatic seizure disorder. Big words and a big fucking deal no matter how you put it." Blair rested his head back against the pillow, the fan of dark curls a shadowy contrast to the stark linen. "It hurts to even say it, much less take in what it really means. For the longest time I wanted to pretend that it didn't make that much difference, but you and I both know that's bullshit." 

"Anger and self-pity don't help anything." 

Suddenly more animated, his hand pushing his hair back from his face, Blair spoke harshly. "You think it's self-pity to admit the truth?" 

"You make it sound like it's hopeless, and it's not. That's why we're here, to do what we can to make it better. Getting pissed about what you can't change only makes it worse." 

Snorting, Blair crossed his arms and shook his head. "You're the last person who should talk about not getting pissed, man, so don't tell me how I should feel here." 

"I'm not doing that." 

"You're always doing that." 

Jim walked to the edge of the bed and leaned his elbows on the metal railing, his strained voice a whisper. "Look, I know you're upset, but we need to work together on this, not fight. I hate fighting." 

After a few moments, Blair nodded, his hand shyly reaching for Jim's. Lacing their fingers together, the older man used his other hand to hold them both as his partner spoke quietly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it out on you. It's just I really wanted this to be over." 

"Me, too, Chief, but we have to face facts. It's not over. You still need help and pretending isn't going to solve the problem." 

Turning on his side, his knees pulled up, Blair continued to talk, his words even more soft. "I know that. I do. It's just sometimes I feel like a selfish prick." 

"Why?" 

"I keep thinking I wish I'd stayed in the truck." Before Jim could respond, he continued, "I know it's wrong, man. I mean, I know a little boy is alive because I did what I had to do, but sometimes, I want it to be different. God, I hate myself when I think like that." 

"Don't hate yourself for being human, Chief." Gently, Jim ran his fingers through the curls, the springy strands a delicious teasing. "Even if you knew then what would happen, you'd still be the first one to jump out to save him, no question. But wishing you didn't have to suffer for it, well, there's nothing wrong with that." 

"You know, I've always said that nothing happens without a reason, but I swear, man, I can't figure this one out. I don't know what I'm supposed to be getting from all this." 

Taking a deep breath, his whole body still too hospital tense to relax completely, he shook his head. "I don't know either. I just know I don't want you to ever give up. I'm depending on you here, Chief." 

"Depending on me for what?" 

"Your strength keeps me going." Jim moved closer and stretched over the rail to kiss the top of his lover's head, the curls taunting his lips with remembered pleasures. 

A tiny snort flavored the laugh as Blair complained, his voice husky. "Oh, man, then we're both in deep shit because I feel about as strong as a fucking guppy." 

Smiling, Jim whispered, "But a guppy's a tough little critter, Chief." 

Shifting to the side and shoving Jim away playfully, Blair grinned. "Who you calling little, Ellison?" 

Jim tried to act repentant, but failed miserably. "I meant more tough than little, babe." 

"You bet your butch ass." His face sobered slightly, his eyes more alert than before. "Why don't you go get the doctor?" 

Alarm quickened his breathing. "What's wrong?" 

"That's what I want to find out. About time we both found out what we're really up against." 

"But we'll be up against whatever it is together, Chief." 

"I know. I think that's finally sinking in." 

"About damn time, Sandburg." He kissed his lover's lips, the soft heat a single line blazing straight through his middle. Easing back, his hushed voice complained, "You were really starting to scare me here." 

"Didn't mean to." 

Tracing his thumb along his friend's full lower lip, he warned, "Just don't do it again, or I'll be forced to resort to my back up plan." 

"Back up plan?" 

"Yeah, you know the one where I tie you to the bed and make sure you're too distracted to ever have time to worry me like this again." 

Blair smiled, his eyes narrowing, the sexual promise pleasing. "And what about all the bad guys running around free in the city?" 

Growling deep in his throat, his face very near Blair's, he swore, "I'm going to be the only bad ass you'll ever need to worry about, Chief." 

"Damn it, Jim, that sounds more like a plan A to me." 

* * *

And so the dance started again, new medications, new risks and chances. 

Jim took a last swipe at the counter, checking for any speck to clean before hanging up the wash cloth. Turning off the overhead light, he headed up the stairs, and sat quietly on the edge of the bed for a few moments. Studying his lover's back, he slowly ran his hand up along the spine, the quickened breath his answer. "I know you're awake, Chief. No playing possum." 

"Was that Simon on the phone earlier?" Blair remained on his side while he spoke, his words low and still a little sluggish. 

"Yeah. He's glad you're home and told me Brown made the Mullins collar." 

"That's good. Nobody hurt?" 

"Nope. Smooth as fine silk." 

Rolling over on his back, Blair met Jim's eyes while he gently walked his fingers up and down the older man's thigh. The barest touch feathered the heat through the denim to brand the trail on his flesh. 

"I'm sorry you had to miss that. I know you and Brown were working hard for that one." 

"It's no sweat. Brown had Rafe for back up." Capturing his partner's hand, he brought it to his lips, kissing the palm. "I'm where I want to be, Chief." Brushing back the damp curls from his sleepy forehead, he asked, "So, what are you thinking about up here in the dark?" 

"Take a wild guess, man." Jim saw the quick flash of frustration, the tightening of the jaw as he spoke. 

"I don't know. Maybe that this whole thing's a bitch and it's like we're starting all over again?" 

"Got it in one, detective." Removing his hand from Jim's, he scooted up to sit back against the pillows. "But that's not all of it." 

"What's the rest?" 

"Well, it's not exactly like we're starting at the beginning." 

"No, it's not." 

Glancing over, he tilted his head and relaxed as he scrunched in closer, shoulder to shoulder. "I mean, six months ago, I just KNEW this wasn't going to be my life, that after a little while, I'd be back to my old self and everything would be fine." 

"We both hoped that." 

"Yeah, but I believed it. I guess, that's why I put off telling you when I started feeling bad again. I didn't want to think that I could be so wrong." 

Kicking his shoes off, Jim brought his legs up on the bed and shifted so that he sat close enough to draw his lover right up against him. As he embraced the younger man, Blair rested his head on his chest, his hand lazily drawing circles around his middle. The drawing fire of his strokes focused his attention both on the contact and the voice, the voice that directed and contained his life. 

"At least this time I know what to expect. I just have to consider the possibility that this is my life now, whether I like it or not. I have to learn to adjust and accept that. To be honest, I don't think I could've done that before, so I guess these last few months were like a buffer, a training period for me to get ready for the real thing." He gently kissed the side of his lover's neck and whispered, "And I know I couldn't do it at all without you, Jim. You've made this whole thing bearable." 

Hugging him harder, Jim fought down the wave of emotion, the hurt, the anger, the pain. Instead he grabbed on to the need and the joy of being with the man he loved. "I didn't have any choice, Chief." 

Confused, Blair pulled away and met his eyes. "Excuse me?" 

Smiling, he drank in the wonder of Sandburg, the full lips, the blue eyes, the delicious heat in his arms, and he whispered, "I'm a selfish son of bitch who can't live without you. You try to give up and I'm duty bound to kick your sorry ass. Got that?" 

Sighing to himself, he nodded and snuggled back down closer, his face rubbing over his heart. "I'll agree with the sorry ass part if you'll change just a bit of that duty plan." 

"And what's that?" 

"From now on it's kiss my ass, okay?" 

"Okay with me, Chief. You planning on giving up anytime soon?" 

Wrapping his arms across his lover's middle, Blair relaxed completely, his words breathy and hopeful. "Consider me surrendered, Jim." 

He caressed the back of his lover's neck, the expectant shivers inviting, and truly understood all duty came with its own blessing. 

THE END 


End file.
